


Smokes, Shutters & Whiskey

by moonwalkingdead



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, F/M, Other, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwalkingdead/pseuds/moonwalkingdead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>REVISED. This is you, falling helplessly in love with the  MacManus brothers. Murphy/Beth/Connor. TWD/BDS Crossover AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own The Boondock Saints or The Walking Dead, just borrowing them for this story.
> 
> EDITED! So I finally, finally think I have an idea where to take this story. Still rated for smut (threesome and all later), still AU, still no zombies, but this time with the Saints. 
> 
> A note that this fic WON'T be a Beth-insert, so I won't detail BDS events (it'll take a while to get to that point as well). This is STILL a crossover though, so our Bethie will somewhat be included in the movieverse, BUT only in the background.
> 
> First chapter was rewritten and expanded, and anything similar to the original post was left as it was on purpose. We start fast on chap one, then slow down as we progress.
> 
> Enjoy!

The whiskey burns her throat the way hot, angry tears would have burned her eyes. But they won't come, and for some reason she can't cry. Maybe she's in shock, or maybe something's just wrong with her, but the tears won't form even though she's so upset at the moment, more than she has ever been her entire life.

So she drinks because that's what her friends do when they're heartbroken, drinks even though she has only ever tried a beer once and nothing else stronger. That was during her 18th birthday, seven long years ago. 

It's stupid, but she can't think of anything else less stupid to do to distract herself, or get this hollow ache in her chest to disappear. And she's at a certain point where she'll do anything just to fill up this gaping hole, if only to make herself feel less empty. 

Every shot is a scorching caress down her throat. It's unpleasant and she gags the first few times, but it does its work like it's supposed to. And quicker too, much quicker than she thought.

Before she knows it, she's already drunk; and when ( _if_ ) she recalls it later, she'll compare it to watching the rest of the world behind a window that's just beginning to get foggy around the edges.

And everything starts to take that strange, dreamlike quality that makes it near-impossible to remember things upon waking the next day, things she would usually want to recall.

But then again, since there isn't much about today that's worth remembering, it doesn't much matter. 

Beth Greene carries on and drinks.

..

Many minutes later and she underestimates her drunkeness by attempting to stand after finishing half the bottle she ordered. She sends herself stumbling gracelessly on the floor, or well, _supposedly_ on the floor.

But strong hands catch her in time, a firm grip on her upper arm and another on her waist, saving her from the humiliation of getting dumped in a drunken heap on the ground.

She blinks several times in confusion, unsure at first of what happened because her bloodstream is running with too much whiskey. And then she looks up as an Irish brogue yanks her back to her present situation and she's just _lost_

Maybe it's the handsome face, combined with the ridiculously sexy accent that makes her breath stutter. Or maybe it's the blue of those eyes, the ones that meet hers in a mix of concern and amusement, that does her in.

And although she has always prided herself for being someone who gets attracted to people not just because of their looks, she can't help it right now. 

She stares and swoons at how _damn_ fine looking the man before her is.

"Woah, easy lass." The hand on her waist tightens when she sways slightly to the side, and the man's brows furrow when all she does after a whole minute is just gape up at him. "Hey, are ye all right?"

She blinks several times before finally answering, and honestly too. "Uh... I'm not sure."

She watches him narrow his eyes before smiling at her slightly. He then glances down at the table she just vacated and at the bottle and shot glass there, lips curling into a smirk. "Ah, der it is. Yer drunk me girl-- where are ye even headed?"

She's so enamored by how the cerulean of his eyes change from shade to shade with the movement of his head, so when the question is asked, she finds herself as confused as ever. 

Because she doesn't have an answer.

She scratches the back of her head clumsily, missing it several times with her lack of coordination. "I... I don't know." When she receives a raised eyebrow in return, she adds if a little lamely: "Fresh air?"

He shakes his head as if in disapproval, although he's still smirking. "An' how do ye expect to get anywhere on yer own?" He asks, stepping away slightly before looking around them as if trying to find someone.  

She flinches slightly when he shouts, but she won't stop staring. "'Ey Roc, tell Murph I'll be out front! I'll be back!"

There is an answer from behind her, shouted too, but it barely registers. Whatever is said makes the man who's still holding her laugh though, his eyes sparkling as he turns back to her. 

With a nod of his head, he moves the hand on her arm to her elbow as she looks on in a half daze. "Let's go den lass," he says to her, leading her away from her booth. And it's her turn to narrow her eyes at him, although she follows.

"Where're we goin'?" 

His grin is wide, and the amusement in his face is as clear as cloudless day, more than it was earlier. "For yer fresh air o'course, ye look like ye need it." He pauses, and then his eyes darken just a little bit. 

His next words make something at the bottom of her stomach clench, but it's not unpleasant, not like the whiskey anyway. 

"Amongst other things maybe, if yer up for it."

And against her better judgement even though she's been taught to never talk to strangers, let alone allow them to _accompany_ her, she lets him take her hand as they step out into the night.

She knows what he's after, his statement pretty much gave it away. It's an invitation. And she realizes that she doesn't mind at all, drunk or not, that she might actually want to know what _other things_ he has in mind.

Because he's warm and honest, and that's everything she needs at the moment.

..

She learns that his name is Connor. 

And he tastes like cigarettes and beer, and he makes it easy to drown in him and his sure, expert mouth. If things go as planned (and with her consent - she's not that drunk to be unaware of the tongue she's allowing entrance to her mouth), it's going to be her first one night stand.

Ever.

And it thrills and scares her both, but after the hell she's endured all month, she's up for almost anything, consequences and all. At least she won't be alone in an apartment that still smells like someome else she'd rather not think of.

"Ye wanna take dis somewhere else more private lass?" His voice is huskier than it was before his mouth was all over hers, and she looks up at his blue, _blue_ eyes. 

She nods, suddenly not as drunk as she thinks she was. His kisses have done a superb job of sobering her up enough to make decisions, no matter how foolish those decisions are.

"Yes."

And when he disappears to get her things for her, she decides they'll have to do it at her apartment - because she wants something else to replace all of the things she has already done there.

So when he comes back out with all of her things in tow, she stands on her tiptoes and steals a kiss from him as he's helping her get into her coat, tracing his jaw with her tongue and lips.

"My place," she whispers as she reaches his ear, and his answering nod and shiver makes her feel a strange sense of power and control. She takes his left hand with a gentle tug, the one with the tattoo on the index finger, and is the one who leads him away this time.

"Ye never told me yer name," he says, and she looks back at him where she's a few steps ahead, smiling almost sadly at him. 

She doesn't answer and he doesn't ask again.

When they finally get to her apartment and he shuts the door behind him, she doesn't wait. She shrugs her coat off and lets it fall on the floor. She watches him watching her as she backs up on her hallway slowly, clumsily shedding clothes along the way, and he runs _Veritas_ on his lips in anticipation. 

She gives him a smile before slipping into her room. "Bedtime Connor." she calls out, and her only warning as she's getting her jeans taken off is her bedroom door being shut.

And then his arms are around her, his lips on her neck and shoulder, stubble roughly scraping against creamy flesh. She closes her eyes and leans against him, her back to his chest, and sighs.

His hands yank her jeans down as his mouth traces hot, wet kisses down her spine, and she steps out of them quickly, turning around with nothing but her underwear on to face him.

He takes his shirt off and works on his belt buckle, and his gaze has her squirming where she's standing. She backs up again, this time until she reaches the edge of her bed. 

She doesn't wait for him long. 

She's barely seated before he's coming at her with nothing but his boxers on, hands gripping her waist and pulling her away from the bed. 

He's the one who sits down instead, switching their places, and he pulls her back to him, guiding her legs on either side of his hips so that she's straddling him. 

And then he's back to assaulting her mouth like earlier, and she moans his name as he guides her hips down to meet his in a slow, sensual dance that has a flood of wetness staining her undies.

He's hard where she's soft, and she tightens her hold on him, her fingernails digging onto the skin at the back of his neck. 

" _Connor..._

His reply is to nibble a little at her bottom lip, before pulling away and reaching behind her. And with a barely audible click, he has her bra undone, and he tosses the fabric away as his eyes drink in the sight of her exposed breasts appreciatively. 

The hand with _Veritas_ reaches out to touch one, and she closes her eyes as he leans forward to take a nipple into his mouth, his fingers imitating his tongue on the other. 

Her hands move to clutch at his hair as she moans again and again, pressing herself against him where it feels so damn good and rocking her hips forward and back in a frantic rubbing motion. 

He groans with his mouth still on her breasts, and the sound of it slicks her further between the legs, and she's knows she's about ready for something hard and fast, something that'll take her away from this world when she comes screaming his name.

He must have known, because he reaches down between her legs, lifting her away from his hardness so that she's kneeling. His fingers rub her relentlessly from behind the fabric of her panties, making her dizzy with sensation, before he's reaching underneath it and pushing his middle finger in.

They moan at the same time, and his mouth finds hers again. 

"So fuckin' ready for me to be inside ye, aren't ye lass?" he whispers, pulling away and looking at her face as he begins pushing in and out of her. She rides his fingers as he adds a second, and tries her hardest to look back at him through half-lidded eyes. 

It feels so good and she leans forward, biting down on the spot where his neck meets his shoulder with a strangled _yes, yes_ when two fingers become three.

And it feels like she's dripping, and she alternates biting and licking on the same spot on his skin because if she keeps moaning like she does, she's bound to wake the neighbors up. 

He rips her underwear off because they can't be bothered with a lot of other movements than what's necessary, and it makes her clench around the fingers inside her. 

He guides her away from his shoulder with a raised brow, and although his eyes are dark with lust, he manages to grin at her. 

"Really? Ripping clothes?" he asks in amusement, and she feels so perfect at the moment, all heady sensation and skin texture, that she does not even feel embarrassed about getting teased in the middle of being fingered. 

She leans forward and runs her tongue on his collarbone, her movements a little more frantic. "You. Want you." she whispers, almost begs, and his grin fades into something else. 

His thumb finds his clit, and she cries out as his movements speed up, three fingers inside her and the delicious pressure on that bundle of nerves. 

She comes undone calling out Connor's name over and over, as if she knows him intimately - but she doesn't - and he showers her bare shoulder with kisses as she rides her orgasm all throughout, those fingers of his unstoppable.

"That's a good lass," he whispers, his facial hair making goosebumps appear on her skin as he slows the ins and outs of his fingers inside her. "That's a very good lass."

And she's liquid in his arms, and he has to half carry her to the middle of the bed if he wants them to continue because she can't do it on her own.

His weight on her as he settles between her legs is so very welcome, and she finds that despite her initial orgasm, she's needy again. 

She reaches out and wraps her arms around his neck, fingers fisting on his hair as she watches him touch himself, a downward and upward movement of a hand on his cock. 

He rolls the condom on and grips himself, aligning the head of his member to her entrance and using it to rub against her slit without pushing in. 

She whimpers and attempts to buck upward, but his free hand holds her down by the stomach. He leans forward and kisses her, all tongue, before pulling back to look her in the eye. 

He's dead serious when he speaks. "Yer name," he breathes out, fingers caressing the skin underneath and around her belly button. And it makes her ache for him, for what's about to come. 

She lifts her head to meet his lips, her tongue tracing the delicate lines of his perfectly talented mouth. 

"Beth. My name's Beth."

And when she pulls away to look at him, he searches her face and repeats her name in a whisper, almost reverently, before he's pushing himself inside her. 

It's all pain and pleasure at once, and she arches her back to receive him with a cry of unadulterated bliss at being filled.

"Connor..." she breathes out, the grip she has on his hair tightening all the more that she actually manages to pull strands of it off. "Connor yes, _yes..._ "

And he doesn't give her time to adjust before he's moving inside her, hard and fast like she wants, and at this point she doesn't even care about waking the neighbors anymore. 

She cries out because it feels so damn good, and she starts meeting each thrust because she can't get enough. 

"Beth..." he murmurs, and for a second something in her chest tightens again as he repeats her name as if it means _something_. 

"Come for me, me lovely little lass..." His thumb finds her clit again, and she forgets about everything as he pushes her to the brink for a second time. 

The galaxy explodes behind her eyes as her lungs stop working for a moment, and it's seconds later before she can breathe again.

And when she comes back from her high, she tilts his head to her liking and watches him come inside her, commiting every inch of his beautiful, sweaty face to memory.

" _Beth..._ "

She knows after this, she most probably won't ever see him again.

Long after he's asleep beside her in a tangled mess of blankets and half-removed bed covers, she stays awake, watching him sleep.

.. 

She wakes up to a pounding headache and a rumpled, empty bed.

And the only proof he's ever been there is the strands of his hair on the pillowcase, and the scent of cigarettes he left behind on the covers. 

She inhales it, _inhales him_ , and she smells nothing but sweat and sex.

She closes her eyes and feels lile crying herself back to sleep, but all of a sudden the phone is ringing. She glances up at her bedroom door which has been left half opened, waiting for her voicemail machine to pick up.

When it does, her blood runs cold at the voice that comes from the speaker.

" _Bethie, please. Just pick up, I know you're there. Come on baby, please._ " A pause, some fumbling. " _Let's talk about this Bethie, I made a mistake and I'm sorry. Just..._ "

She only releases the breath she didn't even know she was holding when her machine gives a concluding beep. And she hasn't decided what to think yet before the phone is ringing again.

Of course she lets it go to voicemail once more.

" _I won't stop calling, not until you pick up baby. Please,_ " there's a hint of anger in the tone of the voice being recorded now. " _This isn't fair. You have to give me a chance to expla-_ "

And then someone speaks, someone who is in her apartment no doubt, and her stomach drops when she realizes that the phone has just been picked up. 

The Irish brogue is still as sexy as it was the night before, although now it sounds pissed off.

"I'm fuckin' tired of hearing ye whining on her voicemail, stop buggin the hell out'a de lass an' stop callin' us!"

Her eyes widen and without even bothering to dress up or cover herself, she's out of the bed and peeking out of her doorway.

Her breath catches in her throat when she sees Connor standing in front of her wallphone, his back to her, wearing nothing but his boxers and holding a spatula on the hand that doesn't have the device against his ear.

Wait, _a spatula?_

"Who de fuck am I? I'm de one she's seein' now 'cause she doesn't need a two-timin' asshole!" Connor sounds angry as he pauses, listening, before continuing. "It doesn't matter how long it's been since de lass broke up with ye, ye don't deserve her!" Another pause, this time longer.

"Well same to ye, ye motherfuck! Goodbye!" With that, he slams the phone back down and sighs, muttering to himself as he disappears from her view. Toward the kitchen.

With soundless footsteps, she follows him, something warm blooming in her chest as she listens to his muttering.

"Schtupid fuckin' asshole..." He's oblivious to her, and she stands a few feet away from him, just listening to his words and trying to sort her feelings out. "I'm goin' to beat de little shit to a bloody heap if he shows up..."

She can't help the waver in her voice when she finally speaks, because Connor is still here and he looks like he's making pancakes. 

It's the best morning she's had in weeks.

"Will you now, Connor?" And she would have laughed at his surprise if she wasn't feeling so damn warm, like she's been embraced by a loved one.

He turns around and gapes at her naked form, before looking up to meet her questioning gaze. "Lass." He breathes out, glancing at his attempts of breakfast before looking back at her.

"Ye should go and put some clothes on." Is what he says next, but she doesn't move, just stares at him, seeing him in a way she didn't the night before.

She steps forward, closing the distance between them. "I asked you if you will now, Connor?" she repeats, her hand finding his own, the left one. She guides it to settle on her hips, and she strokes his index finger with one of hers, caressing _Veritas_. 

"Will you really beat up my ex-boyfriend to a 'bloody heap'?"

She sees him swallow, his eyes falling on the finger she's using to stroke his. "Aye. Gladly." He answers, looking back up at her.

Her other hand finds his face, and she runs her fingers on his stubble, feeling nothing but want for this wonderful Irish man.

She stares at his cerulean eyes. "And am I seeing you, too?" she whispers, a little hesitantly, watching his face flush in embarrassment. 

He turns away awkwardly. "Well... if ye would want to see me o'course," he mutters, and she smiles as she forces him to look back at her. 

She nods at him. "I think I do." she tells him honestly, before leaning forward to devour his mouth. And he's surprised for just a bit, but he doesn't resist and begins kissing her back.

The spatula falls on the ground with a clatter as he backs her up against the center island, and he hoists her up to sit on the edge of the counter.

Beth has her first ever post-one night stand sex in her kitchen counter and can't be bothered by the fact that aside from his name and how good he is in bed, she knows nothing about Connor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've removed the original PWP chapters, which also deleted some reviews and kudos. Sorry! They're still very much appreciated though.
> 
> And I guess I lied. The world doesn't end with writing Reverse Phoenix. So I'll be alternating amongst my three ongoing fics, whichever I feel most compelled to write on at a given time.
> 
> This is a filler chapter, a needed one, so don't expect much.

When he wakes up, he knows exactly what happened the night before and turns slightly on a bed that is not his, to look at the sleeping figure beside him. Disheveled looking and deeply asleep, she's one of the most beautiful things Connor has ever seen. 

If it's even possible, she's almost as pretty this morning.

"Lass." he whispers, lips curling into a half smirk as he gently runs a finger on the soft curve of her jaw. He's not sure what her story is, why she was in a pub last night and drunk beyond belief when she obviously doesn't know how to hold her liquor, but he's glad things turned out the way they did. 

It's a damn shame though, that it's just a one night stand - because she looks like someone he'd actually want to date with that innocent vibe about her to go with the angelic face. That was how she seemed at first, anyway.

But he's not stupid. She was too quick to say yes to him, and had probably just been at McGinty's the night before looking for someone to take home. 

Damn shame indeed.

Leaning forward, he plants a kiss on her cheek and watches as she stirs without waking up, deciding it's time to go. So he leaves the bed and arranges the covers on top of her, hand lingering on her bare shoulder. And then he turns around without looking back.

He follows the trail his clothes have left out of her bedroom: boxers, socks, pants, left boot, shirt, coat, right boot, and finally his rosary on a random table. He checks the time and winces - Murph's gonna kill him for sure because he just missed morning mass.

Hurrying up, he's just about to put his pants on when something beside the living room couch and on the floor catches his eye, making him pause.

"The hell..." 

He walks over, bending down to pick up a bouquet. Roses, but long wilted and just one of many other flowers on the floor. There had to be at least twenty beautifully wrapped dozens there, some obviously more wilted than others. 

Biting his lip, he looks behind him at the hallway to make sure she hasn't woken up before opening the card attached to the bunch he has in hand, morbidly curious about the girl he'd just had sex with.

_I'm sorry Bethie. Please don't throw our seven years away. -Jimmy_

Connor raises a brow at that. She was with someone for seven years? Going through the other cards on the floor before he can stop himself, he reads through them all and realizes Beth may have been at the pub for entirely different reasons than what he initially thought.

"Christ, girl's fuckin' heartbroken," he mutters to himself, placing one hand on his hip as the other scrubs his face. He immediately feels bad, he had been planning to leave without even saying goodbye after all. 

Oh, and thought of her as some kind of slut too, if he's going to be honest with himself.

Now he probably has to wait for her to wake up, maybe prepare her something out of whatever's in the kitchen? Because you just didn't leave people after some really good sex, just when you find out they're going through a break up.

Yeah, what would Jesus do right?

Without even bothering with the rest of his clothes, Connor makes his way to the kitchen like he owns the place and rummages through the cupboards and fridge, getting what he thinks he'll need.

He ends up with pancakes because it's simple and she has a lot of its needed ingredients in stock, and he's just starting on the mix when the phone rings. 

It's all background noise since her calls are none of his business - or at least that's the case until the voicemail picks up. Connor pauses mid mix when a male voice breaks the silence inside the apartment. 

_"Bethie, hey. You haven't returned my calls, I've been tryin' to reach you. Please call me back. I'm still waitin'."_ There is a long pause and a sigh. _"I know I made a mistake and I'm sorry. Please call me, I want to make things right."_

The call ends with a beep of the answering machine, and Connor shakes his head as he continues with the pancake mix. That was Jimmy no doubt. From there, the calls don't stop and the next nearly half an hour is spent preparing breakfast while listening to Beth's ex-boyfriend's voicemail messages.

Seven voicemails later and Connor already knows that this Jimmy cheated on Beth, basing it on what's being said. He's pissed off, but he tells himself over and over that he has nothing to do with whatever problems the girl has.

But he snaps on call number eleven, after hearing the angry note on this guy's, Jimmy's voice. How dare the cheating liar be the one getting mad after what he did?

Walking over the wallphone just directly across the hall with a scowl, he picks up the call, cutting off the voicemail recording as he brandishes the spatula he has in hand to wave it threateningly at an enemy he has yet to meet.

"I'm fuckin' tired of hearin' ye whinin' on her voicemail, stop buggin' de hell outta de lass an' stop callin' us!"

There's a surprised pause on the other line, and then an angry voice answers. "Where's Beth? Who are _you_?"

Connor ignores the first question. "Who de fuck am I? I'm de one she's seein' now 'cause she doesn't need a two-timin' asshole!" He spats. 

He gets a sarcastic laugh in return. "Seeing you? It hasn't even been two months since we split, you're lyin'!" A thudding sound, like something was kicked. "Just give her the damn phone!"

Connor shakes his head even though he can't be seen, but he's too angry at the moment to notice. "It doesn't matter how long it's been since de lass broke up with ye, ye don't deserve her!"

"What the hell do you know about me and her?!" More thudding sounds. "And she can't be seeing someone else already! You're stopping her from talking to me, why don't you just give her the phone you bastard!"

When Connor merely scoffs in response, he gets a shout in return, the loudest this Jimmy has ever been. "Damn you, whoever the hell you are!"

At this point, he's had enough. "Well same to ye, ye motherfuck! Goodbye!" He slams the phone down and, fuming, he mutters obscenities to himself as he goes back to cooking pancakes. 

"Schtupid fuckin' asshole," He flips the pancake he left cooking on low heat, glaring at nothing in particular as he adjusts the burner. "I'm goin' to beat de little shit to a bloody heap if he shows up..."

He's not even sure what really got him so riled up, but before he can figure it out, someone is suddenly speaking behind him, making him turn around. 

"Will you now, Connor?"

It's Beth of course, and she's completely naked, blonde hair a tangled mess around her face. He stares at her half surprised, half mesmerized at how gorgeous she looks at the moment, emotional and vulnerable-looking at the same time.

"Lass." 

His voice comes out as breathy, and he glances at his attempts at breakfast - just to be able to look at something else aside from her wearing absolutely _nothing._ When she doesn't say anything, he looks back at her with a swallow. "Ye should go and put some clothes on."

But she steps forward and well - she touches him and everything just went out the window from there. 

..

Connor pushes himself up on one elbow, looking down at a panting Beth below him although he's out of breath himself. She has her eyes closed, and her legs are still wrapped around his waist because she's not really sitting on the countertop at the moment, even though her back's on it. 

He pulls himself out and then away from her slightly, dropping a kiss on a bare shoulder as he lifts her into a more comfortable sitting position, with him still between her parted legs.

"Ye all right me girl?" 

She opens her eyes, those blue orbs of hers shining as she smiles almost shyly at him. "More than all right. I feel great." she murmurs, and he can't help himself. Connor laughs but affectionately, drawing her closer, himself still in a state of post-orgasmic bliss.

He gives her another kiss, this time behind the ear, one of his hands stroking her side in a slow caress. "Shower den breakfast, and den more sex later lass." He pulls away and meets her gaze. "Or whatever ye want."

Her smile changes then, and she turns away from him, looking at a spot on his chin, one hand finding the back of his neck to play with the hair on his nape. "The sex is done, Connor. Why are you gonna stay?"

Connor decides part of the truth is acceptable - of course he's not going to tell her that wasn't what he actually planned earlier, and neither will he let her know about what he thought about her because it had been a mistake. 

He shrugs. "'Cause I like ye lass." He says simply, nuzzling her ear and making her gasp and giggle a little. "Why, ye want me to leave now?"

She gasps again when his nuzzling becomes open mouthed kisses on her neck, and she shifts to give him better access. "No," she presses her entire body against his as she continues, adding in a shaky whisper: "So shower and breakfast?"

He moves to her mouth, and she opens up for him, their tongues dancing together lazily. Reluctantly, he pulls away, helping her settle back on the floor. "Aye," Connor murmurs.

They manage to pull apart, and Beth smiles brightly at him as she points him to a common bathroom at the end of the hallway, most probably for guests. "Towels are on the cabinets under the sink."

Connor nods, stealing a kiss and not quite letting her out of his half embrace. "Would ye mind if I make a quick phone call?" At the slightly curious look on her face, he adds, "Just need to talk to me brother, let 'im know where I am."

She nods and smiles. "Okay, take your time." 

He watches her walk away then, as bare as the day she was born, and shakes his head as she disappears from view. Picking up his discarded boxers, he puts it back on before his call.

He winces the moment he says hello and receives what can only be called a growl in reply. "Ye fuckin' bastard, bailin' on mornin' mass fer pussy!" Murphy sounds really pissed off, and he sighs. "Look, I'm sor-" but his twin brother doesn't let him finish, barrels on. 

"Ye should be ashamed of yerself and thank Him that Ma isn't here, or yer gonna get it!"

Connor rolls his eyes and speaks as soon as his brother pauses, or else he'll never be able to say anything at all. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, just listen fer a sec!" He hisses, and Murphy almost immediately mutters Lord's fuckin' name in automatic response. 

He then drops his voice. "Aye, I did it fer a girl _but,_ " He looks behind him to make sure Beth isn't anywhere near before continuing. "Fer a good reason. I'll tell ye about it when I get home."

There's an annoyed huff on the other end of the line, and the sound of a flick - Murphy lighting a cigarette no doubt. "Ye better make sure 'tis a very good reason."

"It is brother, I swear it. I'll see ye in a bit den?" There's a hum on the other end, and a muttered bye before they're hanging up. 

And Connor goes back to finishing pancakes to brighten the spirits of a pretty, heartbroken girl. 


End file.
